It’s a Friday night. The guy sharing a fence with Plan B and Beta has called the cops, yet again, at an 8 p.m. gathering of music and die. You don’t know where to go now — parties nowadays are as rare as finding an Econ major who knows why they’re an Econ major — however, you could use a snack.

You walk or drive (DUIs be damned), with red Solo cups in hand, to the same place you visited just a few hours earlier to buy the very cups you’re now downing before heading back in — Safeway.

Just like the LED lights you might see at a party, you follow the bright storefront lights like a freshman to a frat party. 

It’s pretty much the same experience; there’s little-to-no dancing, the peers you only ever see while drunk nod their heads and raise their fists to greet you, and there are ID checkers. The main difference is that there’s also a homeless man pacing outside and shouting slurs.

It’s become such a routine that you and your friends congregate in the same aisle, just as you would with the same desks you sit at in class. 

The freshmen hide in the back of the store by the vegetables, assuming no employee will look for them there. They quietly Venmo their plugs, who are already at the register. 

The sophomores, with their fake IDs, breathe a sigh of relief as they successfully pay for their freshmen’s and their own alcohol. The juniors, who are already done drinking by 8 p.m., wander up and down the candy and chips aisles. Occasionally, you’ll also spot a senior, but they’re more likely hiding at home like a goblin in a cave until their DoorDash order arrives.